


Deception Unraveling

by midnightprelude



Series: What We Have Lost [3]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-30
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2020-07-27 11:43:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20045434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnightprelude/pseuds/midnightprelude
Summary: There was never a question--nobody from the Inquisition could know his true identity. The knowledge would destroy them and him both.Keeping the secret threatened to break him even as it kept him safe.--Crestwood told from Solas's point of view.





	1. Falling

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of the world from Into the Imperium and contains minor spoilers for Chapter 9! If you care about that, I would [head over ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19660141/chapters/46569769) to that and check it out first. :)

The sun was falling and Solas had barely moved from his position near the window. His long leg dangled from the balcony, overlooking the Frostback mountains. They were different than he remembered, but not incredibly so. At first, when he had woken up, it had been the differences that had startled him. Magic had had been stolen from the world; indeed, he had been its thief. His people no longer existed in the way he remembered, proud and strong, the rulers of the known world. They were decimated, enslaved, and torn from their roots. Cast adrift among the detritus of the world, nothing to anchor them to the world he had known.

After some time, however, it was the similarities that gave him the most pause. The wind on his skin was the same. The sky, no longer humming with magic, still was unchanged from his time. The constellations were nearly identical to when he had gone to sleep so many years ago.

And then there was her.

He had not thought it possible that a single soul could capture his attention so rapidly and _even more stunning_, hold onto it for such a time. She was the first from her time who would look at him and try to _see _who he was, to understand _what _he was. Even though she never could, in truth. Not if he was to play his part. Not if he was to succeed.

She could never know him as she seemed to desire. As she had shown him that she desired. Her entire existence was devoted to finding the truth—he had seen evidence of that in all of their conversations. She shied away from no questions. Her eyes never glazed over when he spoke about the Fade, nor did she cower in fear. She wanted to know the world. As he was of it, she wanted to know him as well.

_Though, I do find myself hoping that her interest in me is more than passing curiosity._

The thought made him shudder. Vhenan, he had called her. The first time was nearly an accident—some unspoken force had pulled the words from his lips before he had time to consider their meaning. And he never spoke without thinking. But when he heard them in his own voice, he knew the truth of them immediately. She was his home, his heart. Never had he used those words to describe another. Not that he was inexperienced, but there were always other considerations. Other purposes. His feelings for her surpassed simple seduction. What had been an attempt to take back what had belonged to him turned into something far stranger. Something that frightened him.

_She has given me honesty and sincerity and I have paid her back with lies._

The thought of it shamed him, sickened him to his core. He knew that what he had done was _right_. Her time should never have existed. His mistake, which he needed to unmake.

But even so, she felt right as well. Loving her, being with her, supporting her felt just as right as pulling down the Veil. As right as putting it up in the first place. As right as following Mythal down into hell and getting the whole mess started.

_If I am honest, when I am with her, I am more of myself than I have ever been. Despite keeping everything of myself from her, she still has seen more of me than anyone, more than anyone from my world cared to._

He shook his head, sighing. Lies had piled atop lies, creating a mountain of deception to rival those he was staring absently into.

_If she were here at this moment, she would sidle close to me, take my hand and ask for my thoughts. And I would say…_

He looked up towards the setting sun.

_I would give her the truth. She has earned that much. It may end everything we have together, but at least I can settle my conscience knowing that she knows. _

He sighed again, knowing it could not be so. The truth would force her hand. It was in her nature to prevent suffering. As he was intending to cause a great deal of it, it would be her responsibility to intervene. Her intervention would likely mean his death and with it, the last hope for saving his people would vanish.

_I am sorry, vhenan. _

He stood, moving towards his desk. He wanted to draw her. He pulled a quill and a small pot filled with a midnight black ink towards him, pulling a piece of parchment from the drawer and laying it out before him. He sketched her body first, long and athletic. Her hair cascaded down her shoulders, cropped simply, her ears poking out of the sides. She wore simple mail, but he chose not to draw her with a sword. This was no battle. Not of that sort, anyway.

Her face… He sighed. He drew the sharp lines of her cheeks, giving her chin a serious look. He had seen that look before, as she sat atop the Inquisition throne, passing judgement on those who came before her. Her eyes though, were not unkind. Gentle blue, the color of the sky on a clear day. He did not shade them in—he preferred for this drawing to only be in ink. Sometimes the colors would distract. Her mouth was drawn, almost as though she was biting her bottom lip. She was being told something she did not want to hear. She was not smiling, but not frowning either. She was listening, attention rapt.

Her eyebrows were drawn, serious, but not angry. Her eyes seemed sad when he sat back, looking at her. He drew her vallaslin last, Mythal’s sliver tree on her forehead. It pained him to draw the figure on her—the mark of slavery he had once worn himself upon her seemed a bastardization. She fought for freedom, for peace. To be marred was an affront to her nature.

_I have been so unspeakably cruel to you, my love. I hope you can forgive me._

He sat straighter. The idea began to form in his head. It was a terrible one, a foolish one, but one he wished to fulfill more than anything.

_And what if I did tell her? And she understood, as she has with everything else? What then?_

He found his feet moving away from the desk, from his drawing of her. Across the room, to the door, and out of his chambers. He found her in the rotunda and lost all sense of composure.

“Vhenan. I… There is something I would like to tell you.”

She seemed confused. Their conversations usually began with her questions. “What is it, Solas? Are you alright?”

He nodded. “I am perfect. More than perfect, even, now that you’re here. Would you like to come with me? I would prefer to not tell you here. There are too many eager ears. He motioned upwards to where he knew Leliana would be waiting with her birds.

She nodded, smiling reassuringly, placing her hand on his shoulder. “Of course. I would go with you wherever you would take me.”

_Would that that were true, vhenan. _

“Thank you. I know of a place, if you don’t mind following me. I would tell you of something that I have been meaning to tell you for some time, but have not known the words to speak.”

She smiled, winding her arm through his. The casual glancing touch made his skin tingle. He felt _so young _in her presence—a foolish thought, admittedly. He took to her to the eluvian in the courtyard, kissing her hand before leading her through the mirror. He held his breath as they passed and steeled his heart for what was to come.


	2. Ar Lasa Mala Revas

Through the eluvian they walked together, her arm gently laced through his. The feeling of her against him, through their clothing, made him shiver. She would touch him so casually, even before she had kissed him that one fateful evening in the Fade. He would be drawing out a map for her, of the places he had been, and her palm would brush against the back of his hand. If he were working late into the evening, she would often come into the rotunda and lay her hand on his shoulder, solidarity for the knowledge that their job never ended, whether or not they slept. Even still, she would sometimes sit just a little too close to him at the campfire, drinking wine and laughing. Eventually her thigh would brush against his, sending lightning through his body. Whenever she touched him, his body would soften at first, yearning to lean into her. She was electrifying and he wanted nothing more than to lose himself against her. But then he would draw back reflexively, as though allowing himself that tiny spark of joy would threaten to destroy everything else. Being with her was both at peace and at odds with everything else about him.

He found himself stepping closer to her as they passed through the Crossroads, as though drawn to her like a moth to a flame.

_And which of us is the flame and which the feckless insect?_

They had reached the mirror he sought out, standing before it in silence. He turned to her, smiling slightly before reaching up to brush her hair from her face. She returned his smile, though she was clearly intrigued.

_She looks at me as though I’m a puzzle she’s yet to solve. Perhaps I can gift her with understanding. Or knowledge, if not that._

He sighed, thoughts of her standing before him, a terrified look on her arrived in the forefront of his mind.

_If I tell her, I will never be able to go back to this moment. How will I be able to look at her once she knows? How will she…_

“Solas?” she said, worry creasing her brow. “Is everything quite alright?”

He nodded, straightening himself. “Yes, of course. I am with you, am I not?”

It seemed to satisfy her for the moment. She smiled gently. “Should we be off, then?”

He pulled her close, pressing his palms against her back, drawing her against him in a kiss. She threw her hands around his shoulders, her hand against the back of his neck.

When they finally withdrew, he spoke softly. “Would that I could live my entire life in that moment, vhenan. No more complications or considerations, just the gentle feeling of your presence, would satisfy me a thousand times over.”

She cocked her head. “Complications?”

“The small problem of the breach threatening to open the Fade into this world? And the demented Tevinter magister trying to pull it open?” He said quickly.

_I could lose myself in her. She knows me too well, listens too carefully._

She nodded, her brow still slightly furrowed. “Ah, yes. Of course. I do find myself wishing for a simpler life from time to time, myself. Though it has come with benefits.”

He smiled, hoping he could guess her next words. “Namely?”

She gestured to him, smiling.

He kissed her again. “Vhenan, you flatter me.”

“And Dorian says that you’re the lucky one. He doesn’t have the truth of it.”

He frowned, slightly, guilt gripping his chest. “Perhaps he is correct.”

She smiled, her palm caressing his cheek. “No, my love. I will maintain my position—you are a treasure. Truly. How many times have you saved me? I would not be here if not for you.”

_No, _he thought. _You would not be, vhenan. But not for the reason you expect._

He sighed, frowning again. _So trusting, so beautifully naïve. I would break her with the truth, but I must regardless. This cannot continue. It is disingenuous and painful—the longer I wait the more destruction I will cause. Better to tell her now._

“Let us not argue. I would show you something. I have so much I need to share with you, but I have no idea how.”

She nodded. “We should begin, then.” She pulled his hand as she stepped through the mirror.

He heard her gasp audibly when she saw where he had taken her. “Where are we, Solas?”

“Ah, we’ve been here before, you’d be surprised to learn. This is Crestwood. It looks quite different without a glowing emerald breach off in the distance, casting everything in an unearthly glow.”

“Perhaps that is true, but it is unearthly all the same. It is beautiful here.”

She was correct, of course. The moonlight glinted off the waterfall. The only sound they could hear was the rush of the falling water, casting a gentle spray into the air around them. Fireflies danced among the reeds, their light diffuse through the mist. If Varric was here, he would surely use the setting for one of his sultry novels.

He tried to not think too much on that.

He motioned generally to the area, smiling. He noticed that her skin was covered in gooseflesh, tiny bumps rising against the chill. And something more. He felt it as well. “The veil is thin here. Can you fill it on your skin, tingling?”

She nodded, looking about, capturing the scene in her memory. When her eyes alighted on his again, he couldn’t suppress his smile. She was glorious to look upon. “I was trying to determine some way to show you what you mean to me.”

She laughed, gently. “I’m listening,” her voice carried a sultry tone, as though she was doing her best to keep her hands from him, but could not pull the desire from her words. “And I can offer a few suggestions.” She let the enticement hang in the air, beckoning.

He wanted to give in. He so dearly did.

_But I cannot continue to lie to her. Not when she is entirely earnest in her affections. I cannot live with myself being that cruel._

He smiled, appearing to consider her offer. “I shall bear that in mind.” He took her hand in his own, running his palm against her cheek. She nuzzled her face against his touch.

_Vhenan, please. Stop. I cannot…_

He continued, trying to press down the lump that was growing within his throat. He was surprised when the words came. “For now, the best thing I can offer is,” he paused, speaking softly. “The truth.”

She cocked her head, considering, before nodding and pressing him to continue.

“You are unique. In all Thedas, I never expected to find someone who could draw my attention from… the Fade.”

_No, damn you. The truth. Begin again. _

“You have become important to me.” He caught a glint in her crystal blue eyes. The precursor to a tear, perhaps? “More important than I could have imagined.”

She nodded, brushing a hand against the back of his head. Her touch made his skin burn, shame mingled with desire. “As you are, to me.” Her reply was slow, sure, gentle, and sensitive. It made him want to gather her up into his arms, to shelter her from the pain he would bring her.

His face grew serious, pulled from his reverie.

_You need to tell her_, he assured himself. _She deserves to know_._ You caused this, all of it. You are not who she thinks. You are not who you have shown yourself to be. But you also are. She knows you better than anyone, but also not at all. You’ve lied, you’ve deceived, you’ve obfuscated everything she has come to believe of you. You meant to kill her. You haven’t the heart. You love her. You’re a fool. _

He steeled himself, sighing. “Then what I must tell you…” Her eyes were soft, attention rapt. “The truth…”

_You will break her. You will undo everything. Look at how she sees you. She hangs on every word. You would shake her world, her understanding of everything, to the core. All that she knows of her people was wrong. Lies perpetuated through the centuries. She will hate you. She does not know the truth. How can she? _

“I… Vhenan…” He felt his stomach sink to his feet, standing on the soft grass before the waterfall.

He could not find the words, could not think of anything to make her understand.

_It appears that the lie does not end here. I am sorry. I have… too much to do. I cannot be selfish in this. Even though keeping up the lie is the height of selfishness itself. I… My people. Our people, vhenan. You must understand. Even though you cannot. _

His eyes settle on the markings on her face. So incongruous with her personality. “Your face.” He runs a slender finger across the markings. “The vallaslin. In my journeys in… the Fade, I have seen things. I have discovered what those marks mean.”

Her cocked her head, confused. “They honor the elven gods.” She said it as a statement, but a vague sense of questioning was there in the background.

“No,” he said softly. “They are slave markings. Or at least they were in the time of ancient Arlathan.”

Her brow furrowed and she looked mildly offended at the suggestion.

_Of course she was. The most noble mark of her people, her right of passage, is a lie. Just like the rest. _

“My clan’s Keeper said they honored the gods.” She motioned to her face. “These are their symbols.”

He sighed, nodding. “Yes. That’s right. A noble would mark his slaves to honor the god he worshipped. After Arlathan fell, the Dalish forgot.”

_Her markings are the same that adorned my face, at one time. The same that my master removed. The same I removed from countless others. I spent half a lifetime trying to undo the damage the evanuris did, only to have them exalted after I went to sleep. _

_Perhaps this hint will be enough to suggest… Maybe one day she will guess who I am and remember that I tried to tell her. Words failed me._

Her anger turned to sorrow, her body softening, dropping slightly. “So this is… what? Just one more thing the Dalish got wrong?”

He nodded, eyes downcast. “I’m sorry.”

_For this and all the rest, vhenan. If only you could know how sorry I am, truly._

She shook her head. “We try to preserve our culture, and this is what we keep? Relics of a time when we were no better than Tevinter.”

The words stung him. _No better than Tevinter. Am I no better than them, either? The slavers who destroyed my civilization? I was the one who robbed them of their power, allowing them to be overcome. Her anger if she knew the truth… No. She cannot know. I cannot be the one to… Telling her would end me._

He took her hand gently, swallowing the bile that guilt brought to the fore. “Don’t say that. For all they got wrong, the Dalish did one thing right. They made you.”

She turned away, looking past him. He would have given anything to hear her thoughts. _If only Cole were here. No, he would never permit me to continue this charade. It is best he is far, far away._

“I didn’t tell you this to hurt you. If you like, I know a spell…” His eyes met hers again, blue and clear. Resolute. “I can remove the vallaslin.”

“If what you’re saying is true…”

He nodded. “It is.”

_The one truth I’ve given her this evening._

She looked away again, considering briefly. When her gaze returned, she was strong again. All trace of sadness disappeared. “Then… my people vowed never to submit to slavery.”

He nodded, smiling sadly. “I am sorry for causing you pain. It was selfish of me.”

_Like all I do when it comes to you, vhenan._

He continued, “I look at you and I see what you truly are… And you deserve better than what those cruel marks represent.”

_In truth, you deserve better than me. But again, my pride prevents me from saying so. I wish you could know and love me still, vhenan. I am too afraid of the consequences._

She took both of his hands in hers, nodding. No hesitation remained in her voice. She trusted him completely, despite everything. “Then cast your spell. Take the vallaslin away.” She would have him erase her heritage, just based on his word.

_Perhaps… It is possible she would learn to forgive me as well. For all I have done and all I plan to do. Perhaps she would see the need of it all—to understand my desire to return to the past. Perhaps I could find a way to take her with me, if that is so. Maybe I don’t need to choose._

The thought made him feel as though he was floating.

_I would give her the world if it were mine to give. _

He led her towards the water. “Sit.” He motioned towards the grass. She listened and they knelt together.

He lifted his hands above her forehead, the air between them shimmering. He closed his eyes and let the magic flow through his body, the spell he had formed a thousand times, but not in a thousand years. He could never forget the feeling. And that _he _of all people would be the one to lift the markings from her skin. To give her the gift of herself, unobscured, unfettered by the pain of the past.

_In some ways, at least, I can give her this._

When his eyes opened, she was blinking hers as well. The vallaslin that marked her as Mythal’s slave was gone, her skin unblemished and clean.

“Ar lasa mala revas. You are free.”

_How long since I have spoken those words? _

He smiled at her. “You are so beautiful.”

And she was. She was his heart, his home. He wanted nothing more than to be with her, fully and truly himself.

Despite all of his misgivings, he kissed her, pulling her tight against his body. Her lips were so incredibly soft, her hands searching his body for purchase. He found himself seeking the same against her, running his fingers through her hair, descending downwards. They slid against her lower back, downwards still.

A thought nagged at the back of his consciousness, coming forward though shot from a bow until it was undeniable. _She will make me forget everything. I cannot… I cannot love her and fulfill my promise._

He pulled himself away from her, pushing gently, his face pained.

_No. I… _

The words jumped to his throat, as if placed there by someone else. “And I am sorry. I have distracted you from your duty. It will never happen again.”

Her jaw dropped and she stared at him for what seemed an eternity. He turned his face away, unable to stand her look.

“Solas…”

He sighed, forcing himself to swallow the tears that were threatening to form. He would not let her see them, under any circumstance.

He could not meet her eyes. “Please, vhenan.”

She took his face him her hands, not permitting him to look away. “Solas… don’t leave me. Not now. I love you.” Now that she had forced him to look, he saw the tears forming in her own eyes. It was all he could do to staunch his own.

“You have a rare and marvelous spirit. In another world…” He did not say that it would never be possible, no matter the world they found themselves in.

Her eyes were pained, her voice strained. “Why not this one?”

He shook his head, turning away, back towards the mirror.

_It cannot be. No matter what you feel. Move away. You have a duty that needs to be fulfilled. She will never allow you to see it through, if she knew. _

“I can’t.”

The words sounded like the last chirp of a dying bird.

“I’m sorry.”

He spared her one final glance before stepping through the eluvian. She was on her knees again, head in her hands, body on the ground. She did not look after him as he passed through the mirror.

Back into the Crossroads, alone, soul heavy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My sweet love, how I loathe causing you pain.
> 
> Awesome resource for this dialogue tree here: http://i.imgur.com/0Zrfblb.jpg  
Provided by the wonderful reddit user u/girltriesgames


	3. The Din'anshiral

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are spoilers for [Into the Imperium](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19660141), particularly Chapter 9! If you don't want any spoilers, you should probably check that out first. :)

The wind was enough to make even his heavy cloak billow. Summer was in full force and he found himself quickly sweating. He was ill-dressed for the weather and he quickly removed as much clothing as was prudent, leaving on only a thin vest. He was still warm, but the breeze was able to cool his skin without the extra barriers of his clothing. He smiled. He had not felt so free in a long time.

He walked along a great river, water rushing past the direction he found himself traveling. He paused by its bank, cupping his hands and reaching down to drink from the flowing stream. The water was cool against his parched lips. He repeated the movement, splashing more water against his face.

The reflection stared back at him, disheveled and distorted through the passing waters. His hair was a mess, hopelessly tangled and limp. He pulled it out of his braid, letting the long brown locks trail down his back. He removed what little clothing remained and submerged himself in the water, gasping at the chill. The stream clearly emerged from a nearby mountain, the temperature of its waters unaffected by the summer heat.

Weeks of sweat and grime came off in layers, darkening the water. He had hardly registered the sorry state of his skin until he was clean again, but now he was not sure how he had stood it for that long. He pulled his hair back again, fastening it into a tight braid to keep it from his eyes. 

He was no longer sure where he was headed, letting his feet continue to carry the rest of him towards some unknown destination. The place did not seem to matter terribly. Only that he kept moving, inexorably, towards something. It felt right, walking the world on foot.

A deep feeling of contentment washed over him.

_This is where I am meant to be. _

He was not sure _where _precisely the thought came from; it came unbidden from a secret part of his spirit, showing him the way when he had thought he had lost it. And perhaps he _had _found something special here, at the edge of the world. The hills crested into gentle slopes, the grass beneath his feet was soft, and there was no lack of game.

One foot in front of the next, he passed, miles rolling by with the setting sun. He had not seen a soul until the sun was nearly peaking upwards past the horizon, a new morning beginning.

There she was. She stood atop a hill and he found himself being pulled towards her.

A long braid cascaded behind the woman’s back, her traveling dress blowing softly in the wind. Her hands clasped the reins of a gelding and a stallion, the former as pale as starlight and the latter its opposite. As he approached, he began to see single tendrils of hair had become loosened from her braid. Her back was towards him, looking out into the stretch of land before her. She held herself as though the entire world was hers to breathe in, not from arrogance, but from a proud sense of belonging. She was so distinctly of the world, but her beauty and sense of bearing kept her almost apart from it. It was simultaneously challenging and simple to believe that she had been created from this world—the place that was filled with both sorrow and overwhelming joy. He felt that she had carried both in her palm, but had decided she would embody something quite different from either.

_Vhenan, _he breathed.

As though she sensed his presence, she turned slowly to face him.

He gasped when he saw her face.

It was _indeed _his lover, in so many ways. The woman had her hair, her bearing, her nose, her slight figure. It was not unusual that he would have mistaken her for the woman he loved.

Her eyes though, were distinct. They were silver clouds, crisp and brilliant, encircling dark pupils. He had seen them so many times before, in his own reflection. She wore a thin circlet in her hair, held in place by silver pins. He knew this stranger, even if they had never met.

“Father, I have been searching for you for days. Why you choose to make the journey on foot as opposed to using our eluvian will never make sense to me.”

He remembered to close his mouth. He must have looked quite a fool before her.

_This woman… It cannot be. _

“Is everything quite alright, Father? I brought your stallion. We can finish the rest of the trip together, if you do not mind the company. Mother has already arrived, days ago, with her entourage.”

He was stunned, shaking his head.

“Father?”

He cleared his throat. “Um… Yes. I will go with you. Though I am not sure where we _are _going, if truth be told.”

She laughed. “Have you hit your head? I knew that I should have insisted you travel with a company. I _know _that you like the time to yourself, but…” She looked at him curiously. “You really have forgotten, haven’t you?”

He nodded. “Humor me. I haven’t been feeling myself lately.”

She took his hand, handing the reins to the midnight black stallion. “Here you go.” When he mounted, she continued. “We’re going into the city, of course. There’s to be a party… Something about you naming me as your heir in front of all of Elvhenan...” She laughed, freely, as though she had never known hurt.

He looked around, past the rolling hills, past the woman who looked like _her _and called him ‘father’. “The city… You don’t mean…?”

She laughed. “Mother is going to hear of this, you can mark my words. She’ll never let you out of her sight again. I had not thought you had grown senile in the few months we have been apart. We travel to Arlathan, of course. The entire household is already there. You’ll be the last to arrive, as usual.”

_Arlathan… That means… It worked? But… if it worked, she could never be…_

His vision blurred and suddenly he was standing on the floor of a great stone tower. He could see an eerie green glow off in the distance, blue lightning crackling across the sky. The woman was gone, as were the hills, the horses, and the sky.

_The Fade. Of course it is. I could never have a life with _her _and my People restored both. One dream will always be the death of the other. And… we had a child in this make-believe world? I had not even known that a family was something I wanted. A legacy, one who would remember me for who I am as opposed to who I was made to be. It is too much to believe. But now that I know…_

A woman stood before him, wearing his daughter’s face, but precious little else.

“Did I do well?” It cooed, voice as silky as warm chocolate.

“I do not need your interference, demon.”

The woman, the demon of desire, pouted. “Do you not? You’re _absolutely brimming _with want. Passion that only I have the power to fulfill. Did I pick the right one?”

He tutted. “Too unrealistic. You gave it away.”

She laughed. “Our desires do not _need_ to be realistic. That is precisely _why _they are desires in the first place.” She looked him over. “Oh, perhaps I shouldn’t be wearing her face. Must look a bit strange to you.” The desire demon shimmered and she changed slightly to replace his daughter’s face with the Inquisitor’s.

“Is that better, love?”

He shook his head. “You know that I do not yearn for her any longer. It is done.”

The demon laughed. “You are an _absolutely terrible _liar_, _my sweet. You want her as you always have. You just tell yourself that you can’t have her. And what a sad little thing that longing has made you. I would help you. You could stay here with me. I can give you everything. I can give you her and your world both. You can have everything if you remain. The waking world will only hold ashes. Ashes, blood, and pain. You seek to walk the din’anshiral alone, my pet. You need not.”

He leaned on his staff, tired from this encounter already. “You would leave me with nothing when you were done.”

She chuckled, the laughter ringing softly against the masonry. “Perhaps that’s true, but you would keep me busy for quite some time before that.” She stood straighter, eyes meeting his. “But enough chatter. I _will _find what you desire, whether you approve or not.”

His vision began to swim again.

This time he was in a crystal palace, mirrors suspended in the air, chandeliers swaying gently in the wind. The air was pleasantly warm and the construction of the tower was such that natural light and air filtered through the rooms, giving its denizens access to the outside world while sheltering them from it.

Before him stood a great silver tree, branches extending so high he could barely make out their leaves. It seemed to reach the very clouds themselves. The trunk of the tree had been shaped in a throne, as imposing as the woman who sat among its branches, a living throne.

Lady Mythal sat resplendent in full armor, her long blonde hair cascading down her back in gentle curls. She was dressed for battle—indeed, she had anticipated it.

He did not need to see his reflection to know what it would hold. He was younger, but his vallaslin had been removed already. This was to be a coronation of sorts. His reward, or his curse.

The other seven evanuris stood behind the imposing figure of his former mistress. Elgar’nan, with his flaming sword and fiery eyes stood beside his wife, directly to her right. At the goddess’s left stood her favored daughter, Andruil. He was surprised to see the goddess of the hunt looking uncharacteristically pale and gaunt, her hand lay gently on her mother’s shoulder, as though to steady herself. Branching out from them were Mythal’s other daughter Sylaise, fair and gentle, and Sylaise’s husband June, built like a ram. On the other side of Elgar’nan stood Ghilan’nain, in riding leathers. The twins, Dirthamen and Falon’Din, stood behind their father, apart from the others and cloaked in darkness.

Mythal beckoned for him to approach her dais and he followed her command. There was no other option.

He stood upon a mosaic at her feet, depicting the creation of the world.

_The evanuris may not have been the ones to make the world, but they would certainly take all the credit given to them._

His face was a mask as he approached his supposed gods.

_It is for Mythal and her alone that I am here. The others… They cannot be trusted, even those who appear to be pleased by this situation._

“Kneel, Wolf,” the silver lady commanded.

He dropped into a deep bow before them, his head lowered and arm resting upon his knee.

“You have performed a great service for the People—descending into the realm of the Children of Stone and ripping their power straight from its roots. We owe you a great debt, each of us. Our cities would crumble at their insistence, and you alone stood to bring them to heel.”

He said nothing, and did not meet their eyes. It was not his place to speak at a gathering of his gods.

Elgar’nan spoke next, his voice like rolling thunder. “It is at my wife’s insistence that you be exalted into our ranks. Though I have my own suspicions, it is not the place to voice them here.”

Sylaise approached him, a golden circlet in her palms. She would have designed it herself, her husband smelting the ore to make the crown. Howling wolves would sit on either side of his forehead, reminding all of who he was. The evanuris placed the crown upon his head, kissing him gently right below where the circlet sat. The slender woman stepped back into her place between her sister and husband, gown swishing gently against the floor.

“Arise, Fen’Harel, and leave your old self behind. What you were no longer exists, replaced by what it is you will become.” Mythal’s words were like the ocean, battering against the coast. He found himself suppressing a shiver as he stood before them.

“May you find peace along the path, Wolf.”

She had not dismissed the other gods before Falon’Din and Dirthamen had already turned to leave. Their action would be seen as an affront and he was sure Mythal would have noted it. Her sons had come, but they did not agree with her decision. He had known that his ascension would have detractors. The evanuris did not like to share power.

He turned to see another figure had taken their place towards the back of the room.

It was a smiling woman, one he could hardly place.

Then he remembered, suddenly.

_Vhenan… I do not belong here. Not any longer._

The image shimmered and he was back in the tower again.

“That was not so much a desire, as it was a memory. An interesting choice for you to recreate.”

The woman nodded, smiling. “You wished that it had turned out a different way—that you had walked away from that meeting. That you had left whole, as opposed to leaving as a pawn for those who were supposed to be your equals.”

He sighed. “I carry a great many regrets, but I could not have saved my People had I not stood among the evanuris.”

The woman who held his lover’s face smirked. “Oh, and you still believe you saved the People? I still think that has yet to be seen. You _wish _to save them. You wish a great many things. That does not make it so in your world that is so resistant to change. Stay here with me and you can be anything you wish. I will show you.”

He saw himself in front of a great mirror on an island floating in the sky. Before him stood the Inquisitor among a sea of unmoving Qunari. She moved towards him quickly and he turned away from her as she approached.

“Solas!”

He turned back towards her, his breath catching in his throat. “So, you’ve found me at last, vhenan. I suspect you have questions.”

She was furious, looking about her with her sword brandished towards him. “Speak, and perhaps I will listen.”

He nodded. “As you wish. What would you wish to know?”

She grimaced. “Do not toy with me. I would have the truth from you. Tell me of how you betrayed me, betrayed the People. I know who you are, _Fen’Harel.” _She spat the last word towards him and he found himself involuntarily stepping backwards.

“You already have the truth then, do you not?” He found himself saying. He wanted to run to her, to hold her, to prostrate himself before her. Instead he did none of those things.

“Did you ever truly love me, or was that just another of your lies? God of betrayal, deception. I should have known.”

He balked. “Vhenan…”

She shuddered, tears beginning to slide down her cheeks. She was mourning, even through her anger. “Do _not _presume to call me that, Solas. Not when you have given me nothing but falsehoods. I am dying. Speak quickly so that I may leave this world in peace.”

“I did not lie to you when I confessed my affections. That was no act, even if you do not care to believe it. And now you must understand why it could not continue. Not if this were to be the outcome.”

She laughed. “Did you not think I would _understand_? Am I not enough of a person to even be given that choice?”

He shook his head. “No, that is not why I could not tell you. And you _are _a person to me. You have been for a very long time. That was why…”

She frowned. “Then why would you still destroy it all?”

“This world was a mistake that I need to undo.”

“You cannot always keep running from your problems, Solas. We will find you, eventually.”

“I know. But I must try even so.”

“I loved you too. _I love you still_. That is why I cannot let you do this. I came to stop you.”

He shook his head, smiling. “You know that there is only one thing that will stop me, vhenan. And you do not have the strength to do it. Your emotions will get in the way.”

She laughed, drawing her blade. “That is precisely the reason why I am the only person who _can _finish this, Solas.” At that moment, the anchor in her hand flared, turning the sky a bright green. In a moment of distraction, she had crossed the short distance between them. She was a hair’s breadth away from him before she grabbed his arm, pulling him into a kiss.

He felt her blade slide through his stomach, the steel passing through him like he was made of silk. He did not stop it—had no more desire to. Blood rose up through his throat like bile, dripping from his mouth. He made a sign with his hand and her anchor flared again.

“You knew that coming here was suicide, did you not, vhenan? I can kill you just as easily as you can kill me. Easier, even.”

“I should hope so. I came to die here with you. You’re a damned fool. I love you, but you have no idea what you would do.”

“It is foolish to think this could end any other way, vhenan. That we could avoid killing each other like this. A kind fantasy to indulge in, but not one that meets with reality.” He kissed her, leaving a trail of his blood against her lips. “For what little it is worth, I am glad it was you.”

He felt himself slumping in her arms. Her anchor was dissolving her slowly—she would not have more than a few minutes left in this world. And neither would he, if he judged his own situation correctly. He had failed her, failed the People, and lost them both.

_Fitting. _

He could barely keep his eyes open. She was stroking his head with her one remaining hand, the right half of her body nearly gone.

“You are a rare and marvelous spirit. In another world…”

She smiled at him, despite everything, kissing his forehead. “Why not this one?”

“I can’t.”

Her voice grew faint as she continued to fade away. “Remember, you had a choice. You chose incorrectly.”

“I am sorry, vhenan. For everything.”

Her last words were a whisper in the breeze, so soft that he was not sure if they were real or not. “I know.”

The last of her body disintegrated and he was left there, in his island hovering amongst the clouds, utterly alone, blood slowly pooling from his weak body.

The vision shimmered again, and Solas found himself facing the demon of desire. His body was whole, not bleeding out on the ground. He brushed himself off, looking at her.

“Oooooh, you do love your little pains, my sweet. That was _absolutely _delicious.” The demon was licking her lips, staring at him.

He frowned. “Are you going to permit me to leave?”

She laughed. “And why would I do that?”

“We’ll just spend all of eternity here reliving the same scenarios if you never allow me to leave from this place. If I can go back into the world, then I can return here with new material. And you can help me, again. You know my true desire. To see this through to the end. And once I am done, I will return to you. Be so kind as to grant me what I wish.”

Her lips pursed, considering. “Hmm… That’s an interesting proposition. Usually people just threaten to kill me and then I have to end them. Very sad. I like you more than most.”

He laughed. “You may be the first to say that.”

She nodded. “You’ve intrigued me. I have decided, against my better judgement, to permit you to leave for now. I would like to see how the story ends.”

He sighed. “As would I.”

The demon extended her hand. “Once you find out, you’ll need to return to let me know. Do you promise?”

He nodded. “Yes. I will return. Though _not _forever.”

The demon frowned. “Damn. Well, it was worth trying. Even so. Goodbye, little mageling. I hope you find what you are looking for. Or maybe not! Then perhaps you’ll come back to me willingly.”

Solas opened his eyes. His head had been resting against his desk in the rotunda. He heard footsteps behind him and he stood quickly.

It was her.

“Solas…”

_Vhenan_, he wanted to call. He wanted to run to her, to pull her into his arms and apologize for everything. To stop the lie and to give himself fully to her. He wanted their future, their child, their life together. He wanted her more than he had wanted anything else in his life.

_But that way brings only pain. For her and I both. And that I cannot abide. _

He pushed aside his emotions, sliding back into the mask, pretending like she was not the one his soul called out for.

“Inquisitor. How may I be of service?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this makes me want to write more in Arlathan. Perhaps one day.  
This was a fun one to put together. And my first ever completed (if short) fic! 
> 
> You've reached the end of this little tale. Thanks for joining me on the journey.   
Dareth shiral.
> 
> Elvish:  
Din'anshiral: Journey of death

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first bit from Solas's POV and it was fun to write! Far from a novel idea, but I wanted to try my hand at portraying his voice.  
Also coincidentally my first fic title that doesn't begin with an I or end in -rium  
I hope you enjoy!  
Fen'Harel ma ghilana.


End file.
